"We need to talk about your eating habits," The nurse says bluntly, inching closer to the side of the bed with her clipboard in hand.
My blood instantly runs cold, my hands shaking slightly as I tuck them under the thin sheets.
My first instinct is to run, deny the truth like I've always done. The thought of Lucian being here and having to hear some of the crazy things I've done just to be a few pounds lighter makes me wish I had sent him out the room.
What if he judges me, what if he realises that I'm more hassle than I'm worth and doesn't want me around him like my mum or what if-
"Ssh it's okay Harper," Lucian's comforting voice says softly, cutting through my pessimistic thoughts.
He takes my shaky hand in his, rubbing small circles with his thumb in an effort to calm me down.
"You collapsed due to malnutrition which is very serious, your body has been denied even the very bare minimum of nutrients it needs to function," She says seriously.
"Is there a reason why you haven't been eating Harper?" The doctor asks softly, concern lacing her voice. I feel Lucian's body tense up beside me, his breathing stilled.
I avoid eye contact, staring down at my lap.
I know there's no use in denying it, She knows, I know, Lucian knows, Carter knows. At this point it's not even a secret anymore but I so desperately want it to be.
People knowing means I'll be forced to change my ways, get better or at least pretend to be.
I don't want people to look at me different or pay extra attention to my eating habits like Carter does because even though I'm miserable it's worth it.
Starving myself is the only semblance of control I have left in my life, the feeling of drinking a bottle of water on an empty stomach or shivering in a warm room just reminds me that despite everything in my life being turned upside down I'll always have power over my body.
I don't want that to be taken away from me.
The doctor sighs, my lack of response clearly giving her all the information she needs. "When is the last time you ate something?" She questions.
"The night I collapsed," I blurt out, hoping my answer was convincing enough to dull her suspicion.
"Yeah? What did you have?" She asks skeptically, clearly testing me. "A burger," I state nonchalantly, maintaining eye contact.
For a second I thought about it, thought about telling the doctor and asking for help but the less rational side of me is desperate to remain in the same familiar routine, deny, deny and deny some more.
"No you didn't," Lucian sighs, his voice pained. My eyes snap towards him, landing on his tired face. I nod frantically, wanting him to believe me.
"You didn't have one at the campfire, you said you were full," He recalls, worry evident in his eyes.
I swallow the lump in my throat, my mind immediately racing to cover up this lie with another one.
"I um-" I stutter out, trailing off as I try to complete my sentence.
"It's okay Harper, there's no need to lie there's no judgement here," The doctor says too sweetly, speaking so softly it makes me feel like she's speaking to me like a child.
"Fine I don't exactly remember the last time I ate something, my memory isn't the best after the whole freezing to death incident," I snap, using my anger and defensiveness to cover up my fear.
The truth is I do remember, I always do. I remember to the last day, hour and minute.
A sense of pride courses through me as I remember not eating my sandwich in the tent with Miles, watching the boys eat their burgers as I sipped my water and refusing all of Mile's snacks over the long coach journey.
Before I ended up here I hadn't had anything to eat since my leak soup at the restaurant with Lucian's parents, nine days ago.
The proudness I feel about my fast is replaced with that familiar feeling of panic when I realise that over the course of my five day coma they've probably been pumping me with god knows how many calories.
"It's clear that with your current weight and with what your friend has told me you are suffering with an eating disorder," The doctor says, her lips pulled into a tight sympathetic smile.
I immediately look over at Lucian, betrayal etched into my features. He's been telling her stuff about me?
"I'm not going to apologise Harper you need help," He says calmly, softly kissing my forehead and effectively calming me down.
"He's right, I believe it would be best to send you to one of our recovery clinics," She explains, pulling out a leaflet from her clipboard and placing it on my lap.
I look down at it, the leaflet being just a few pictures of a depressing looking facility, the walls and decor bland and beige with a few miserable looking patients sitting around a table.
I feel my heart rate pick up as a single tear rolls down my cheek.
I don't want this.
"Due to you being underweight you can be fast tracked to the facility, meaning we can have you booked in as early as tomorrow," She says, her voice so certain it sounds like this plan is already set in motion.
"But I don't want-" I hiccup, stress making it so I'm unable to get my words out.
"This is the best course of action for you," The doctors starts to explain, sounding as if she's about to dive into some long preplanned speech.
"Can you give us a minute," Lucian snaps, annoyed at the doctor's inability to sense my distress. She relents, leaving us alone in the tense room.
I imminently burst into tears, not being able to help myself. Not even a second later is Lucian's arms wrapped around me, pulling me into this chest and holding me tight.
"Don't cry, everything's going to be alright," He promises quietly, stroking my hair. "How?" I question, exacerbated. "I don't want to go to that clinic," I plead in between hiccups.
He pulls me in front of him, his hands on my shoulders as he looks at me. He seems conflicted, torn between being stern and insisting I go or promising I won't have to just to get me to stop crying.
"Don't stress," He says, grasping my face and wiping my tears away with his thumbs. "If you don't want to go then you won't," He promises, his words instantly filling me with relief.
"But that doesn't mean you're not getting help Harper," He says sternly. "We'll have to set up a treatment plan, or get you a therapist, or maybe a better facility but either way you will be getting help," He reiterates, holding non flinching eye contact with me.
"That all sounds like so much money and effort," I mutter, hoping he'll agree and just forget about this whole thing.
"I don't care Harper, I don't care how much it costs I can't watch you struggle like this for any longer," He says, his voice cracking.
"You'd do that for me?" I whisper, the idea of anyone caring enough to help me being a foreign concept.
"Harper I'd do anything for you."